Bad Boys of the Night: Eight Sizzling Paranormal Romances: Paranormal Romance Boxed Set

by Jennifer Ashley

  “Well, none of that sounds good … Oops.”

  Broderick leaned close, his breath hot on her neck. “You’ve gotta stop saying things like that. Oops, what?”

  “She knows I’m here. She’s trying to sabotage me in return.” Joanne sucked in a breath. “Man, she’s good.”

  “Don’t sound so admiring.”

  “Can’t help it. It’s how you’d feel about a good fighter at the fight club. Whoa …” Joanne jerked her fingers from the keyboard. “Pull the cables. All of them. Fast, fast, fast.”

  She’d already pulled the Ethernet connection out of her laptop and shut down the router, but she knew her actions were likely futile. Computers never closed down that completely until you ripped their insides out, and even then …

  Broderick was busily jerking out all the cables he’d so painstakingly plugged in. Joanne shut down all the power strips, disconnecting them, undoing any cables, everything she and Broderick had set up.

  She blew out her breath when it was done, plunked down into her chair, and buried her face in her hands.

  “Did you stop her?” Broderick sat down close beside her, his body warming hers.

  “For now.” Joanne lowered her hands, feeling a small measure of satisfaction. “And I gave her something to think about.”

  Broderick laced an arm around her. After the virtual world of cold numbers and symbols it was nice to lean on a warm, real person. No one could be as real as Broderick.

  He flexed his hand. “I hate all this computer stuff. I need something I can punch with my fists.”

  “I guess you might get the chance, if she opens a gate, like you fear.”

  His body vibrated with his voice. “Don’t even want to think about that. Fae are nasty bastards, and they fight dirty. They made Shifters so they could loose us on their enemies while they sat back and kept their hands clean. I do not want anything to do with those dirtbags.”

  Joanne snuggled against him, and Broderick put his other arm around her, enclosing her. She felt ineffectual, fighting an invisible enemy. The bug the other hacker had fired at Joanne would have destroyed everything she’d ever done if she hadn’t blocked it in time—and Joanne wasn’t certain she had. She’d have to wait and see.

  Somehow, at this moment, none of that mattered. She had Broderick beside her, his solid strength supporting her. If Joanne never wrote another line of code in her life, she had the reality of Broderick’s arms to hold her, his gruff voice to warm her, the memory of lying beneath him to bring her pure joy.

  His world was so different from Joanne’s. Broderick lived close to the bone, taking his comfort from his family, who were always there for each other. Joanne’s world was security holes and electronics, faceless enemies at the other end of a wireless connection.

  Broderick had been shunted away from the rest of humanity, but his life was more real than Joanne’s ever had been.

  He pressed a kiss to the top of Joanne’s head. She allowed herself to get lost in the feeling, then she let out a breath of half contentment, half frustration.

  “If the hacker has the sword,” she began, “but it’s not helping her get into the Guardian Network, why did she bother taking it with her? She could have left it at the house when she ran. She didn’t need to hang on to it.”

  “Mmm.” Another kiss. “Because a sword is a Fae relic, which she needs to go through a gate to Faerie if she makes one.”

  Cold worked its way through Joanne’s body. “Will it work even if a piece is missing from the sword?”

  “I haven’t the faintest fucking idea.” Broderick shrugged, his body moving hers. “I’m learning most of this shit myself today.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Joanne’s energy for a challenge returned. “We can tell her that the sword won’t work without the medallion. You were right in the first place. I offer the bait, and we take her down when she comes for it.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Broderick untangled himself from around Joanne and stood up. He studied her, sitting there all determined, the blanket tucked around her, baring her shoulders and swell of her bosom. She would never understand how impossibly sexy she was.

  She still could enrage him fast, though. “No way in hell,” Broderick snarled. “We came here because you were mad at me for wanting to offer myself as bait. Why do you think I’ll let you do it?”

  Joanne looked up at him, her eyes filled with resolve. “She’s not going to come if she thinks a bunch of Shifters are waiting for her. If I offer to meet her alone …”

  “No!” Broderick clenched his hands. “We lure her out, sure, but someplace I can grab hold of her and turn her upside down. She’ll try to bring her thugs—so you bring yours.”

  Joanne made a sound of exasperation. “I didn’t plan to meet her in a dark alley in the middle of the night alone. We’ll set up a place she’ll feel safe, somewhere very public. Like the coffeehouse I go to at the lake.”

  Broderick frowned. “Shifters aren’t allowed there.”

  “Exactly. So she won’t think they’re there. You hide out somewhere, I’ll bring her past you, and you nab her.”

  Joanne looked happy with this idea, ready to do battle.

  “I see so many, many flaws in this plan,” Broderick said.

  “Yeah? You have a better one?”

  “I will.” Broderick put his hands under her arms and hauled her to her feet. “But later. When it’s daylight. For now …”

  He abruptly lifted her into his arms. Joanne let out a yelp, surprised, which was silenced by his hard kiss.

  Broderick headed out of the room—she’d need a real bed this time, not the floor. Before he left, he snaked his hand back and swept up the medallion from the table.

  ***

  The answer lay inside that house. Cilla studied the long brick abode with its neat yard for a long time, trying to make up her mind.

  Do it. Go! The crackle came from the tablet half out of her bag, words sizzling on the dark screen. It had found a way to follow her.

  Inside the house was the way to do what this creature wanted her to—in theory. All Cilla had to do was commit more murder, and access to the Guardian Network would be hers. Only this time, she had to do the killing herself. She’d dismissed the guys she’d hired, had lost track of them, and now she was on her own. Just as well—they’d only been interested in money, nothing else.

  Cilla had no interest in financial gain other than what she needed to support her computer habit. She got by on very little and didn’t aspire to live in penthouses and drive fancy cars. Those were useless things that bogged her down. A true hacker didn’t write code to own something stupid-ass like a solid gold toilet. They did it for the beauty of the code, to be able to create something and execute it better than anyone in the world.

  That was the draw. Unfortunately, the ambition to do something no one else could had been what had gotten Cilla caught.

  Can I hack the Guardian Network, the most un-hackable database of all time? Every hacker knew about the Guardian Network, the ultra-secret database of the Shifters. Access was like the holy grail, the goal of every underground hacker. So far, no one had done it.

  Cilla knew she could, if she had the right tools, which included a Fae artifact, like a Sword of the Guardian. As Cilla had roamed the virtual world, trying to set up a way to steal a sword, another hacker, strange and terrifying, had caught her.

  He’d showed her he could have those she loved killed, and immediately, she was doing everything he said.

  Now he was telling her to kill another hacker, a woman she might have been friends with in another life.

  Now! There is no time!

  Cilla slipped across the dark yard and around the house, hefted the crowbar she’d stolen from a junkyard, and jimmied open a window.

  ***

  Joanne came out of a sound sleep to find a woman over her, crowbar raised. Broderick had his arms wrapped around said woman from behind and was dangling her a few feet off the groun
d.

  Joanne scrambled out of bed to her feet, grabbing the blanket to wrap around her. “What the fuck? Is this her?”

  “Yep,” Broderick said. “I heard her opening the window and grabbed her as she was climbing in. You might be a good hacker, sweetie, but you suck at breaking and entering in real life. Don’t worry, I took the gun off her and broke into pieces.”

  The woman’s face was familiar, triggering a memory. She had dyed black hair, skin pale from staying indoors all the time, sloppy clothes, heavy-heeled boots, and her lips bore the remnants of black lipstick. She clutched the crowbar in one hand and desperately held onto a backpack with the other.

  “Do I know you?” Joanne asked, trying to remember. “Have I worked with you before?”

  “At UT,” the young woman said. “You tutored me.”

  Joanne had tutored many undergraduates as she’d gone worked on her advanced degree. “Yeah, now I remember.” Joanne pictured a young, very thin girl with enormous eyes, difficulty speaking to anyone, and lots of talent. “You were really, really good. Your name …” Memory failed her.

  “Cilla Gilbourne.”

  “That’s right. Cilla. I remember liking the name.” Joanne’s eyes narrowed as she looked Cilla up and down. “So, what the hell happened to you?”

  Cilla’s frightened look turned to one of self-admiration. “I got better than you. I’ve done amazing things.”

  “Sure, I bet you have.” Looking at Cilla gave Joanne a chill. Joanne had been so much like her once, ready to commit all kinds of computer crimes just to say should could do it.

  Broderick growled. “Enough with the happy reunion.” He shook Cilla. “Where’s the sword?”

  “Safe!” she snarled. “I didn’t bring it with me. I’m not that stupid.”

  “You came for the medallion,” Joanne said. She reached for it where Broderick had laid it on the nightstand. “Well, too damn bad. I’m not going to give it to you. I’ve already used it to get into the Guardian Network, so thanks for leaving it behind.”

  Cilla’s eyes filled with rage. “That should have been me getting in. I worked my ass of for that, I stole the sword, you just got lucky!”

  “You killed a Guardian for the sword,” Joanne reminded her. “I have the feeling the Guardian Network wasn’t thrilled with that.” Joanne was surprised how calm she sounded in spite of the shaking rage inside her. This woman had hurt Broderick, had killed another Shifter. “I didn’t break in. They opened the door for me.”

  “Why?” Cilla shouted. “Why you?”

  Broderick shook her again. “Because she’s not a demented, murdering lunatic. Where is the sword?”

  Cilla’s face changed, her moods lightning swift. “I’ll tell you if you promise to help me.”

  “Help you what?” Joanne demanded. “You’re not in any position to negotiate. Did you think I’d help you break into the Guardian Network? Forget it.”

  “I have to. I have to open the way. I have to let him out.”

  Joanne stared, Cilla’s desperation tearing out of her. “Let who out?”

  Broderick growled. “You mean some fucking Fae? Hell, no.”

  “I don’t know who. He’s here.” Cilla tried to reach into her backpack, but Broderick’s strong arm closed around her, and she gave a cry of pain. “No, I need the tablet …”

  “I’ll get it.” Joanne yanked open the half-zipped backpack and drew out a tablet computer, a large one. It was off, black, blank.

  Joanne touched the switch to turn it on. The usual icons came up, nothing more. “Where?”

  “No.” Cilla moaned. “It’s different now. He’s there when he wants to be. I need to find him.”

  “She’s crazy,” Broderick said with certainty. “Trust me, I’ve been living with crazy; I know the signs.”

  “Please.” Cilla’s imploring look was all for Joanne. “I’ll show you. Let me show you.”

  Joanne considered. She flipped through the screens on the tablet but found nothing unusual.

  Finally she let out a breath. “Take her into my office,” she said to Broderick. “But I’m sitting right next to you, Cilla, and you’re not touching a keyboard. You tell me where to go.”

  Broderick didn’t want to let Cilla do anything. His eyes were tight, gray-white. He wanted to shift and kill the woman, or drag her back to Shiftertown to face retribution.

  He gave Joanne a long look, then he turned and carried Cilla down the hall to the computer room.

  Joanne knew Broderick did it only because he trusted her—Joanne. She understood that and acknowledged it. For a Shifter to trust a human, especially with something like this was … a gift.

  Broderick did not set Cilla down gently. He jerked the crowbar from her and ripped the backpack from her shoulder, tossing both out of reach before he dumped her into the chair. He stood behind her, holding her arms so she couldn’t grab something else and use it as a weapon on Joanne.

  Joanne sat down next to Cilla, pretending the young woman didn’t unnerve her. As she remembered more about her, she recalled thinking Cilla was brilliant but undisciplined—someone who could accomplish much but didn’t have the focus to succeed.

  Between then and now, Cilla had found the drive, but she’d let ambition plus smarts push her too far. Cilla had considered herself unbeatable, and as soon as a person believed that, she left herself wide open.

  Broderick was a bulk of unforgiving anger. But he’d help Joanne. Joanne knew that at the moment, her presence was the only thing keeping Cilla alive.

  Joanne laid the medallion next to the keyboard and rested her fingers on the keys. “Tell me,” she said.

  Cilla explained, in a choked voice, what to type. The code was unfamiliar to Joanne to begin with, then it veered off into even more strangeness.

  Joanne heard the medallion humming, a silver sound, though not with the surge she’d felt when she’d accessed the Guardian Network. The network wasn’t going to let them in this time, but Joanne had the feeling they weren’t heading there. Sure enough, they swerved to another data stream, using numbers and words Joanne had never encountered.

  “Here,” Cilla said. “I know it’s here—I know it.”

  She was scared, almost insane with it, as Broderick had decided. Joanne stopped typing. “What are we trying to do?”

  “Reach him. I’m here.” Cilla tapped the screen as though it were a window to something beyond. “Come to me. They can help.”

  Joanne exchanged a glance with Broderick. He mouthed, “Crazy.”

  A second later, the screen filled with static, whiting out the lines of code. Within the static, Joanne thought she saw the faint outline of a man. “What the hell … ?”

  Cilla bent forward and spoke to the screen. “I found them. I found the piece of sword. We can do this.”

  Broderick cut into her words. “Do what? Shut it down, Joanne. This is bad.”

  “No, wait.” Joanne studied the screen. “Is that a Fae?”

  She heard Broderick’s growl as he started to say Yes, then he stopped. “I can’t tell. I don’t see any pointy ears.”

  “How does he communicate with you?” Joanne asked Cilla. “I mean, besides you yelling at the screen.”

  “I have to …” Cilla nudged Joanne’s hands. “He won’t trust you.”

  Joanne hesitated, then finally moved her fingers. She could watch that Cilla didn’t say anything she shouldn’t, stop her if she did. Risky, but they needed to know what was going on.

  Cilla started sending letters, numbers, symbols. The figure didn’t move. The screen filled with white again, the silhouette disappearing. The static faded, and the code came back.

  Joanne watched, fascinated. She’d never seen some of the code the two were using, but she followed along.

  You have the sword? All of it?

  Yes, Cilla sent back. What do I do now?

  Take it to a place no one will know. Set up the coordinates, then use the sword as I said.

  Okay, Cilla
answered.

  “You were right,” Joanne said to Broderick. “He wants to open a gate.”

  Broderick tightened his hold on Cilla. “Like hell I’m going to let her do that.”

  Something in the code caught Joanne’s eye, something that made her lean close and watch carefully.

  The hacker, or whoever it was behind the screen, was sending another, and hidden, message. Oddities started coming through the code, bits and pieces that had nothing to do with the ongoing conversation between the man and Cilla. She saw Cilla’s lips move every time a piece showed up, she noting them too.

  Put together, the message read, Don’t open. Destroy it. Great danger. And more than once, Help me.

  Joanne fixed a gaze on Cilla. “Did you know about this?”

  Cilla looked scared. “He started sending the plea for help last night. This message is why I’m here, not the demand to open the portal. I don’t know how to help him. I don’t know what to do.”

  Broderick leaned between them. “We’re not helping a Fae shit do anything.”

  Joanne didn’t answer. Cilla was terrified. The young woman had been confident enough to deal with illegal hacking, theft, even letting humans murder a Shifter, but she had no idea how to help a person in trouble, or even if she should.

  Cilla had come here, Joanne realized, partly to dump the burden of the decision on Joanne and Broderick. If Cilla was out of this conversation, she could go back home to hack away to her heart’s content, her conscience cleared. She would have passed off the problem to people who cared, gotten out from under the power of whoever was forcing her to help, and think herself justified.

  Joanne gave Cilla a big smile, one that held a chill. “You’re not going anywhere, sweet cakes. Once upon a time, I learned that everything you do comes back to bite you. Call it karma, call it the way of the universe, whatever you want. You pay for the bad things you do, no running away. And I’m going to make sure of you pay for this firestorm you’ve started. ”

  Cilla still looked scared. “You don’t understand. He’s hurting people—he must have someone doing things for him here. The man who’s asking for help isn’t the same person—he’s being forced to send the messages.”